What If My Past Is Your Present?
by WithoutAWord
Summary: Carla's possible thoughts in the 'We'll have to go to the cafe' scene.


_**A/N**__ I found the whole 'We'll have to go to the cafe' scene this week really intriguing, and I just had to explore what Carla might have been thinking throughout the scene. As I wrote it, it highlighted just how many insecurities Carla still seems to have. Obviously, this is completely my own interpretation of the scene, and none of the dialogue is my own. Also, I feel like I need to clarify that what I've written is Carla's thoughts, not mine; I don't want people thinking I'm some sort of Carla hater, because they couldn't be further from the truth. Hahaa. It's not great, but I figured I'd already written it, so I had nothing to lose by posting it. Reviews greatly appreciated :)_

'I just don't believe it.'

Carla couldn't help the involuntary tut which escaped her lips as Peter sat at the dining table, a mug in his hand, ready to start another of his rants. She loved him far too much to be put off by his occasional bad moods, but she had to admit they weren't the best part of her day. Besides which, they had barely just got out of bed; her brain wasn't fully functioning yet, not having had the cup of tea which she held tightly in her hand as she made her way to the sofa, and it wasn't the best way to start the day either.

'What?' she asked, trying to keep the trepidation in her voice to a minimum.

'Well, that she's gone back to him!' He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world; as if it was the only thing Carla had been thinking about all night too. '_Nick_.'

She sighed, lowing herself down onto the sofa she was finally beginning to see as hers. Although, right now, it felt as if it belonged to Leanne again the way Peter was so evidently hung up on her. Carla had mentally prepared herself for the moment Leanne moved on, but she had a strong feeling that Peter hadn't. She had to admit, she hadn't expected it to be so soon what with Leanne up there on her high horse, but she had known it would happen sooner or later. She had feared Peter would be jealous - that he would be able to think of nothing else but her – but Carla had managed to convince herself that Peter really did have feelings exclusively for her. More fool her, eh?

'Baby, we've just got up. Can we please talk about something else?' She was scared of what else he'd say, and whether he would confirm her fears if he spoke more on the subject, so she shot in quickly to avoid hearing more painful words come from his mouth.

'Oh, so what? We just going to...' he waved his hand in the air, trying to find the right words, 'pretend it's not happening?'

'Well that's a bit...'

'She's made a mockery of everything.' Peter interrupted her, and she sat there, staring at him in shock. Carla couldn't help but think how hypocritical he sounded. Peter had left Leanne for another woman; he could hardly expect her to avoid relationships for the rest of her life. There was a pause as Peter waited expectantly for Carla to say something, but instead she just looked down at her tea anxiously as a million and one thoughts raced around her head over how Peter was feeling and what it all meant for her. And, while she didn't want to admit it, even to herself, a small part of her worried that if she spoke again then she would be shot down once more. When she didn't give any input to the conversation, he wasn't particularly fazed by her silence and he began to rant at her once more. 'I mean, Nick's not his dad. _I'm_ his dad.'

She nodded slowly as she stared so intensely at the brown liquid in her hands someone could be forgiven for thinking she was trying to see right through it. Ideas of jealousy on Leanne's behalf began to mix with jealousy surrounding Simon and it worried her that it all seemed to be rolling into one. She could understand that Peter would be jealous of Nick taking his role as father to that beautiful boy, but she couldn't work out whether that was partly a smokescreen for his ever-present feelings for his ex. The hatred Peter held for Nick ran deep in his veins, having never even partially forgiven him for having an affair with who was then his wife. What if, having nearly lost Leanne to Nick once before, he wouldn't be able to stand seeing her completely his? What if the pressure of seeing the two of them in an open relationship was too much for him to bear?

'I know,' she whispered cautiously, as she struggled to keep it together, her head still bobbing slowly as if she no longer had control over it.

'I mean, of all the people she could of picked, come on!' This was what she didn't want to hear. She didn't want to hear how deep rooted his hatred for Nick was, because it just reminded her of how much it had hurt him when Leanne had cheated on him and she worried that he still hadn't let go of his feelings. A terrible thought popped into her head which she tried to suppress as soon as it reared its ugly head, but she knew it would now stay, niggling in the back of her mind – what if Peter had only got with her to spite Leanne? It would never be a conscious action, she was sure of that, but she also knew that Peter wasn't too good at recognising his own emotions. I mean, look how long it took him to admit his feelings for her? She lifted her head, so that she was now staring at the wall instead of the contents of her mug, as she tried to banish all the thoughts which had now begun whizzing around her brain at a hundred miles an hour. As Peter spoke up again, her head was still faintly bobbing as if it would somehow help to shake away those horrible thoughts. 'It should be me having my son, not Nick! Not _him_.'

Carla started massaging the mug in her hands as another mention of her lover's son makes her feel guilty. Perhaps Peter's feelings really were innocent? It was selfish of her to suspect otherwise. It said so much about her that she didn't trust her partner, despite everything he'd given up to be with her. She'd made sacrifices too, but somehow they didn't seem quite as important next to his. It had ripped her heart apart the day Peter had given Simon over to Leanne. She remembered holding him in her arms, sobs wracking his body as they sat together on the floor. All she ever did was hurt him. She knew that. What if he knew that too?

Peter sniffed as he rubbed his nose in annoyance, and Carla bowed her head again as she remembered that she hadn't had time to do the shopping yesterday after a busy day at the factory. She knew he was in a volatile mood, but she needed to tell him some time in the near future before it got too late to grab anything at the cafe before work. Besides, the quicker she told him the quicker the conversation would divert to something other than Nick flaming Tilsley.

'If you want something to eat you'll have to go to the cafe 'cause there's nought in.' The silence which she is met with screams a thousand words at her, and she doesn't need to look up from her mug to know that Peter is now glaring at her. Not a harsh, threatening glare, more a disappointed and aggravated one. But she knows that's the expression which will hurt her the most.

'_What_? We've got nothing to _eat_?' His tone is almost disapproving, and she turns to face him, eyes wide in disbelief. Since the start of their relationship, she's never been the obedient housewife. She'd done the washing and the ironing and the shopping and sometimes, when they really were desperate, the cooking, but that was only because she wanted to. She wanted to make life as easy for Peter as possible. She wanted to pull her weight in the flat they now share together. But it was not her responsibility alone. He wasn't incapable of going to a supermarket, nor was it her _duty_ to do it for him. She did it because she cared, and she didn't expect to be treated like this when her livelihood got in the way of doing that for one day. She'd never have dreamt of herself doing all of this in a previous relationship, but somehow Peter _made_ her want to. Why was he getting angry over something so trivial? It wasn't like they were going to starve. She sat there frozen, unsure of what to say or what to think, fearful the wrong words would just worsen the whole situation.

Peter knew he had crossed a line, and he raised his hand dismissively.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' He says the words, his tone kinder and calmer, but there doesn't seem to be any genuine emotion except exasperation. 'Yes, we'll go to the cafe,' he sighed reluctantly. He took another glance at Carla, who was still staring at him wide eyed, and he realises that his actions so far this morning weren't okay. 'I'm sorry,' he repeated, his eyebrows raised while his voice was stronger with determination. She searched for some sort of remorse or guilt, but she couldn't find any, and she wasn't sure if he was sorry at all. Maybe he didn't really feel like he had stepped over the line? Maybe he expected her to have the dinner on the table every night, like Leanne used to do. Maybe he expected the washing done, the ironing done, the shopping done, the cooking done, the cleaning done...just like Leanne used to do. Maybe he didn't expect it, but he _missed_ it.

Maybe he wanted the past to be his present.


End file.
